Scandal's Daughters

Chapter 7

Felicity’s emotions felt pulled in such opposite directions she could barely draw breath. Her body ached for him. It was almost terrifying how much her sinew seemed to long to lean into his broad chest. Her mind had gone remarkably quiet. The earlier cries that he was not meeting her expectations died away.

So, perhaps he was far more normal than she’d first imagined. Normal was what she longed for. What she needed. Normal would protect her against scandal. Normal would ensure she wasn’t cast out and alone.

And normal was perfectly fine considering the way her lips parted in anticipation, no longer concerned with knowing him any better, before he kissed her.

She had a distinct feeling Lord Marksborough wouldn’t be normal when he kissed her.

As if he could read her thoughts, his hand slid into her hair, tilted her head back and, for one long moment, he gazed down into her eyes before he stole her mouth in a hungry kiss.

She expected it to be frenzied and wild.

Oh, it was wild! But it was slow. So very slow. His lips caressed hers with tantalizing abandon as if they had all the time in the world.

With each kiss, she grew drunk. Drunk with passion and need.

Her body swayed towards his and he pulled her into his arms, arching her back, supporting her so that he might take her mouth fully.

His tongue teased her lips. She gasped and he delved his tongue into her mouth.

It was such a shocking sensation that she could barely think as he stroked her.

After a moment, she realized with great astonishment that she was being almost entirely passive. It was something she didn’t like at all. But did he like that?

There was only one way to find out.

So, tentatively, she touched his tongue with her own.

He let out a soft growl of pleasure.

She flushed as she was certain he had liked what she’d done. So, she allowed herself to give way to instinct and allowed herself to give as well as take in their kiss. After several moments of this, his hands wandered over her back, stroking firmly.

She pressed her breasts against his chest, savoring the sensation. Of course, she knew about intimacy. With a father like hers, it was impossible to be innocent, but she had never experienced anything first hand.

It was so thrilling that she longed to throw caution to the wind. To tear her clothes. To offer herself up to him. And why not? She was already ruined!

But she couldn’t. She daren’t risk him thinking her a whore.

She couldn’t risk him decrying their marriage.

So, she pulled back.

Much to her relief, he didn’t resist but his face was dark with hunger. Hunger for her, she knew.

It was exhilarating knowing she made him feel thusly.

“I think I should go,” he said softly.

She nodded. “Yes. Probably best.”

“Let’s wed,” he said suddenly.

“I thought we’d already agreed-“

“Tonight.”

All the air rushed out of her, replaced a by an alarming excitement and sense of disbelief. “What?”

“A special license. I can get one. Let’s be wed today.”

She was no fool to mistake that his sudden wish to marry now had nothing to do with their kiss. But she wanted to marry him now as well. The sooner she had him, the sooner she could stop feeling so afraid.

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Tell Lady Melbourne then,” he said gently. “And you and I shall be man and wife before midnight.”

With that, Lord Marksborough, Marquess of Talbot, stood, bowed, and left her absolutely breathless. And absolutely wondering what sort of man she was marrying.

***

Penelope ran the silver-backed brush through Felicity’s dark hair, in long, soothing strokes.

Felicity savored this last simple exchange with her sister as she sipped on the large glass of wine that Lady Melbourne had insisted she partake in. In fact, she’d sent up a tray of wine with glasses for a toast before she left for her rather hasty wedding.

After today, there would be no intimacies like this with her family. Or at least not often. After today, she’d live in her husband’s house, with his family. It was a bittersweet thought.

“Are you certain?” asked Penelope softly.

They sat before Felicity’s dressing table in Lady Melbourne’s townhome. The light of the summer evening poured through the windows bathing them in a golden glow. It should have been perfect. Or as near to perfect as it could be.

How did she tell her sister she was bloody terrified?

She stared at herself in the mirror then sipped again at the robust wine.

“I’m certain,” she declared with a great deal more conviction then she truly felt. “He’s a good match.”

“Yes, but what sort of man is he?” Penelope demanded.

“An honorable one,” Felicity replied easily and truthfully. “He could have fed me to the wolves, you know.”

Pen grinned. “He has that in his favor, coming to your aid and all that.”

Desperate to assure her sister and lighten her own mood, she pointed out, “He’s also very handsome.”

Pen clucked. “That isn’t a good reason for marriage.”

“Isn’t it?” teased Felicity.

“Papa is very handsome.”

It was true. Their father was an exceptionally handsome man and it had helped him through a multitude of sins. Beauty did have its uses.

Felicity took a gulp of wine, her nerves aflutter at the fast turn of events this day had taken. In truth, the whole year had been mad. “Lord Marksborough is nothing like Papa.”

Pen waved the brush and admonished, “He’s a rake.”

That was true enough. He was important enough that his reputation was made known. He was a gentleman of consequence and he was a gentleman who liked the ladies. Married ladies and widows.

“One cannot expect one’s husband to be a saint,” she said, a maxim she had to acquire if she was to survive. What else could she say? “Besides his good points make up for any bad.”

“And those good points are?” asked Pen.

“Oh, an exceptionally old title, heaps of money, and he could have left me to Lord Trumbold.”

Pen softened. “I’d like to like him. But it’s so very sudden.”

“You know as I do that there is little one can do to prepare for marriage. He might turn out to be a bounder or the best of men. We cannot be as careful as others with fathers to protect them.”

Felicity nibbled her lower lip, her own nerves flaring again. “You don’t think I should suddenly run to Venice do you? You’re not worried?”

“Of course I’m worried!” Pen replied with frustration. “But Venice? No. I think Gus could do it. Even Marianne, but you, George and me? We’re English thru and thru. We love this land and the society it hosts.”

Felicity raised her glass. “Too true.”

The door burst open and Gus bustled through, her reddish-blonde hair flying out of her coif. She pounced on the bed and grinned at them. “So, tonight is the night!”

“Gus,” Pen warned.

Gus only blinked innocently.

“You know nothing more about it than I do, Augusta,” Felicity said, her insides feeling decidedly wild at the thought of what tonight would bring.

Gus pouted her lips with exaggerated coquettishness. “Don’t I?”

“No,” Felicity replied through gritted teeth.

She giggled. “The blacksmith’s son might say differently.”

“Augusta Drake, if you’ve given your virtue to—“

Gus held up her hand. “Should it matter if it be lofty lord or lowly peasant?”

“Do not be grandiose!” Pen exclaimed in horror. “Not about this.”

Gus sighed. “Alas, I am virgo intact. The poor boy was too frightened to go through with it in the end. I need a man, don’t you know.”

“You need a swift kick to your bum,” Felicity said.

Gus laughed. “Probably. You will tell us all about it. Won’t you?”

Felicity laughed. “I suppose. Not everything, but you know I believe in the importance of knowledge.”

“Oh good,” Gus replied happily. “No one has been able to sufficiently sate my curiosity.”

“Your curiosity will see you dead,” retorted Pen.

“Pen, how ever were you born into this family?” asked Gus, rolling her eyes. “You’re too good.”

Pen tsked. “Felicity is good.”

Gus laughed. “Not that good.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Oh come, Felicity,” urged Gus as she sprawled dramatically on the bed. “Admit it. You’re as naughty as me in your head. You’ve just had time to practice keeping it to yourself.”

It was so tempting to tell her sister there wasn’t a jot of truth in the claim, but she couldn’t. “I will admit to being naughtier than Penelope.”

Pen gasped.

Felicity laughed. “Oh Pen, do not fear. I’ll never cause a scandal.”

Pen hated scandals. Perhaps the most out of all the sisters. She’d never gotten the knack of not being dreadfully hurt by the derision of others.

And when one was surrounded by as much scandal as the Drake sisters were, it was important to achieve such a knack.

“That’s what you say now,” Gus pointed out lightly. “But what about in five years, when we’re all sorted out, your husband has grown a stomach, and is always with his mistresses! Perhaps, you’ll cause as great a scandal as Lady Adelaide Lyon!”

Pen shuddered. Visibly.

Felicity groaned. “I’ll never be as mad as she or cause such a scandal.”

“Oh no?” Gus asked, batting her lashes.

Felicity winked. “I’d never get caught. She virtually proclaimed to the world that she was Papa’s lover.”

Pen groaned.

It was one of the more infamous scandals around their father. The poor woman had been obsessed. Finally, her husband had taken her to Ireland to recover.

Some had even felt sorry for their Papa. For Lady Lyon had been a great deal of trouble.

When one was the most famous poet of the age, one did attract all sorts.

One thing Felicity knew, she’d never act so rashly. That was why she was absolutely going to marry Lord Marksborough, Marquess of Talbot. She wasn’t going to mind that he saw his stoop as a sacrifice. Besides, it was quite nice of him to come up to the mark.

Trumbold would have been a disaster.

A knock sounded on the door and Lady Melbourne entered.

“Ah,” the lady smiled. “I should have known you’d have an entourage.”

“I’m surprised George and Marianne are elsewhere if you must know,” replied Felicity.

“They are out in the hall. I caught them eavesdropping and shooed them. Really, I should shoo all your sisters away just now, but I think it best we be honest with each other.”

Lady Melbourne leaned back out toward the hall. “Come along then, ladies. I know you’ve not gone far.”

There was a titter of laughter and then Marianne and George scuttled in, joining Gus on the bed.

Felicity glanced at all her sisters and her eyes prickled with tears. They’d always been together. Always. Now, she was going away from them.

Lady Melbourne leaned on her cane. “You’ve made a wonderful match, my dear. I promised you my help.”

“And you’ve given it.”

Growing serious, Lady Melbourne said, “And if you ever need it again, you shall have it.”

“Why should I need your help?” Felicity asked, feeling a hint of trepidation.

Twirling her hand in thought, Lady Melbourne pronounced, “The vagaries of marriage, my dear girl. The vagaries of marriage.”

Felicity shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“If you ever find yourself in a situation like your father—“

“Or Lady Lyon,” whispered Gus.

Felicity waited for Lady Melbourne to roll her eyes but she did not.

In fact, Lady Melbourne nodded. “Exactly. You must promise to come to me and I will help you.”

“I will never do anything—“

“Never is a dangerous word,” Lady Melbourne warned carefully. “And your blood runs hot, my dear.”

There it was. The idea that she and her sisters were tainted. Tainted by generations of bad blood. There was no escaping it.

So, she swallowed then gave a firm nod of agreement. “I promise.”

Lady Melbourne suddenly looked very relieved and she bustled over to the tray of wine and crystal glasses that she had sent up hours before.

“Then let us drink a toast.”

“To your doom,” intoned Gus.

Marianne laughed. “Never! Felicity will have him dancing to her tune in no time.”

“To love,” said Pen. “Surely, love will grow.”

George snorted. “Tosh. Who needs love? A good estate with beautiful horses will do!”

Lady Melbourne poured the glasses and handed them out. “To wisdom. To a woman who will be wise enough, not just to catch her husband, but to keep him.”

To keep him.

They all raised their glasses but Felicity felt her spirits waver because deep down, she knew she wanted to keep Lord Marksborough. She wanted to make him see that she was better than any of those other silly candidates he might have chosen. As she lifted her wine to her lips, allowing the warmth to buoy her spirits, she promised herself that somehow she’d win him in truth, and not just by hook or by crook as she had already done.